


Let Me See You Stripped

by christophspowerstance



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Crossdressing, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Paul is a nasty boy, Roleplay, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-23 07:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christophspowerstance/pseuds/christophspowerstance
Summary: Post concert, Paul submerges himself in an indulgent fantasy with Schneider.





	Let Me See You Stripped

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arrestzelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrestzelle/gifts).



> This is another birthday fic for my sweet [Brig](http://babypaulchen.tumblr.com/)!! You deserve the world bb ilysm!!!! Also thanks for editing!!

With a deep huff, Paul lets himself fall back onto his hotel bed. Exhausted, he runs a hand down his face. The adrenaline of the live show continues pulsating through his veins, though it’s not quite as overwhelming as it had been. He really burned off all his energy today. He gave one hundred percent. For their fans, for the show, for himself. As far back as his stage performances go, he’s always been the one to enjoy playing on stage the most. Flake once said, while being high out of his mind, that Paul found his purpose in life in making people happy. Paul can’t argue with that. He loves everything about being on stage; the faces of thousands of laughing fans, the bass of the music replacing his heartbeat. But most of all, if he’s being honest, he loves the attention. It’s kind of superficial, but he can’t help it. Attention makes him want to be even better, to aim even higher. And it makes him feel appreciated. Especially, if it comes from certain people…

He can’t stop his thoughts trailing off to his favorite part of their performance. Paul never would have thought he would enjoy the feeling of a tight, cold leather collar around his throat. The physical and psychological weight of it. And yet here he was; excited for that one specific moment on stage for… _certain_ reasons. When they first tested the procedure, almost every single one of them broke into laughter when they saw Christoph, in full Frau outfit, with smudged lipstick, waving around the crop, trying to keep them in place. They switched positions multiple times, until they settled with Till and Paul crawling at the back, which, ultimately, had them withstanding the brunt of Frau’s punishing strikes. Paul was surprised with himself; he never anticipated accepting the leash so easily–but then again, _Christoph_ was the one holding it.

Paul always had an interest in his long-time bandmate and friend, and still does. Even if it hadn’t been for that one night they had spent together, intoxicated like there was no tomorrow, back when they toured with Feeling B, there would still be an inevitable bloom of his feelings. With the filming of the music video for “Mein Teil” though, he discovered an entirely new side of Christoph. Acting feminine came so easily to him, almost _naturally_.

Christoph is an attractive man, Paul can’t and won’t deny that, but somehow, he’s become even more attractive as a woman. Paul caught himself watching their own music video over and over again, eating up all the scenes of Christoph performing as _Frau Schneider_. And well – then someone came up with the idea of reviving her persona after seven years. They created this new live act based completely on her – and Paul found himself enjoying it maybe a bit _too_ much.

After he spent some sleepless nights thinking about it, he came to the conclusion that it must be connected to his desire for attention. And the fact it’s Christoph giving it to him, of all people, is a welcome addition.

And yet, there is still one thing bothering Paul. He feels guilt for thinking it, but it is what it is. The feeling of receiving a brutal punch to the guts whenever Christoph – or rather, _Frau_ – gives any of the others more attention. Since Till, due to his role as a lead singer, is the center of the act, he does get to interact with Frau quite often; more so than Paul does. The longer he contemplates that feeling, the more it becomes painfully apparent: it’s jealousy. A twisted kind of jealousy. But he simply can’t put it any other way, can’t put it under any other label.

Staring up at the ceiling, Paul lets his thoughts spin. He asks himself what it would be like if he had Frau all to himself for once. Before he could gain control over it, his mind digs deeper and deeper into this image, making way for immodest ideas.

Paul tenses up. He knows this is immoral. He knows it’s wrong. He knows this is taking a path he didn’t intend it to. But it’s just too tempting. He is a man after all. A man with lust.

He starts to picture details; Frau’s slender fingers holding the riding crop in a firm grip, the displeased look on her face, an indication that she will use this feared tool of punishment. Her elegant movements as she steps closer to Paul’s submissively bent body, towering over him.

Paul’s eyes flutter shut, his hand finding its way under the waistband of his sweatpants. His mind drifts off to a fictitious room with only himself and Frau. A universe without shame, without dignity.

Frau’s hair is disheveled, her lipstick smudged – much like the stage version of her, but she’s wearing her genteel attire from the music video. The smooth skin of her muscular, yet beautiful, legs hidden by sheer, beige tights. From Paul’s point of view, kneeling on the cold, hardwood floor, she looks even taller, dominating him through her sheer presence alone.

She merely lifts her hand a little bit, raising the crop to softly place it under his chin, lifting his head to look at her. The leather of the crop feels smooth against Paul’s beard stubble. Frau carefully traces Paul’s jawline with it, with utter control of the cane. The corners of her red lips rise into the slightest smile when she cocks it back a bit to gently let it slap it against Paul’s cheek, sending a shiver down his spine.

She moves to crouch down in front of him, her free hand reaching out for the O-ring fastened on his collar. She curls an elegant finger through it, and pulls him closer to herself, until Paul can feel her calm breath tickling his nose.

Paul’s lips are slightly parted, longing for her touch. The urge to lean forward and kiss her overcomes him, but he knows better than to give in to it.

Her scent fills up his senses. Her perfume is strong, but still feminine and floral.

Paul cautiously looks up at Frau’s face. He rarely gets the opportunity to admire her features this close. Her beautiful, blue eyes are hard and cold, her strong nose a stark contrast to her high, sharp cheekbones. Her red lips are in a tight line, though pretty and delicate, like the rest of her.

He’s interrupted from his train of thoughts when Frau lets go of the O-ring and gently strokes her hand up Paul’s jaw, her fingers fanning out to lightly rest over his cheek. Paul immediately averts his eyes back to look down at the floor. He notices her skirt has rode up the slightest bit due to her crouching down, exposing her knee. Paul can’t refrain from staring at it, soaking up every glimpse of her skin he is able to catch.  

Her fingers are soft and cool against his heated skin. Paul feels intimated by it, though the desire to touch her grows stronger with every passing second. He tries to fight it, but loses the battle. Shyly, warily, he reaches out to lightly place his hand on her knee, the mere touch sending bolts of excitement through his body.

Immediately, he experiences the consequence of his imprudent action. Frau cocks her hand back the slightest bit, but the strike of her palm against his cheek still hurts. Instinctively, he quickly lowers his head, pulling his hand back from her knee.

Her voice is sharp like a razorblade when she scolds him, seething from between her teeth, “What do you think you’re doing? What gave you the impression that I would allow such a thing?”

Paul’s cheek is burning from the hit. He can’t bring himself to produce any words. He opens his mouth, an attempt to defend himself, but he knows it wouldn’t do him any good.

Obviously, staying silent was a mistake. Frau slaps him again, with full force, on the same cheek. It has Paul flinching, his head jerking from the force of it, a small whimper escaping his throat.

Her face is twisted into a displeased, angry grimace, casting dark shadows over her pretty, chiseled features. In a dangerously low tone, she snarls, “Answer me when I ask you something.”

Paul’s whole body heats up, his heartbeat quickening. Biting his lower lip, he raises his eyes to glance at her. He doesn’t look at her for long, instead nervously averting his gaze back to the floor. When he responds, his voice slightly quivers, “N-nothing, I didn’t think about it. I-I’m sorry, Frau Schneider.”

Grabbing his chin between two of her elegant fingers, Frau forces Paul to look at her. Her eyes are still hard when she speaks up again, “I thought you wanted to be a good boy for me, Paul.”

The disappointment woven into these words crush Paul. He wants to be a good boy. He wants to be the best boy. He wants to make her proud of him.

Almost whispering, Paul weakly responds, “But I do.”

Lifting her chin, Frau looks down at him with utter dominance. Her following command is brief, and explicit, as she withdraws her hand to stand up. “We will see. Spread your legs for me.”

Paul obeys without hesitation, eager to show Frau his submission. Although, shifting around in this position draws his attention back to his achingly hard cock, screaming for touch, a simple stroke, _anything_. His face is burning up. He is bare in every sense of the word; he’s completely at Frau’s mercy.

“I want you to keep quiet until I say otherwise.” Frau’s voice cuts through Paul’s thoughts. Paul dares to look up at her when he simply nods.

Excitement surges through his veins. He knows Frau is going to do _something_ to him, but he has no idea what to anticipate. Pleasure is in sight, and Paul will welcome it, in whatever form it may be.

Paul hears the clicking of her heels when she slowly steps around him, letting the leather strap of the crop lightly trace his body, ultimately correcting his posture. He ends up kneeling upright, his back straight, and hands placed flatly on his thighs. His thighs begin to tremble, straining to keep him rigid.

The smooth leather of the crop disappears from his heated skin. Patiently, Paul waits for something to happen. During this silence, this time of pure _nothing_ , it’s getting hard to ignore his arousal. His dick is throbbing between his legs, the anticipation fueling the lust curling in his belly. The need to find relief grows stronger, but he knows he can’t do anything about it.

Keeping his eyes downcast, he doesn’t predict Frau suddenly hitting his inner thigh with the crop, carefully targeted to not miss the spot. Paul jolts from the surprise. It stings, and Paul’s jaw involuntarily clenches in order to remain silent.

Frau does it again, this time with more force, and proceeds to strike the sensitive skin of his thigh over and over again, with sharp, little whips of the crop. Paul clenches his eyes shut, trying to focus on something other than the pain. He can’t prevent his body from reflexively bending in an attempt to shield itself from the hurtful impact.

Just when Paul thinks he can no longer restrain himself from making a sound, Frau ceases her swift strikes. She grants Paul a minute to breathe.

He realizes he had been digging his teeth into his bottom lip. He lets his facial features relax again. He’s breathing in ragged gasps, considering he subconsciously held his breath.

Paul doesn’t dare to open his eyes again. He hears Frau stepping closer. Then, a rather cold weight presses against his shoulder – unmistakably the lash of the riding crop. With gentle force, Frau corrects Paul’s position once more; making him straighten his back, pushing his knees further apart.

A minute of utter silence passes yet again, making Paul restless and fidgety. He hates waiting, but he’ll do it for the sake of being a good boy. He tries to concentrate on his breathing, and on the fact that he’s not alone. He can still feel Frau’s presence, even if he can’t see her.

Suddenly, a precisely aimed hit to his balls has a violent shudder rippling through his body. Though the hit wasn’t exactly _painful_ , it still fulfilled its purpose. Immediately, Paul’s attention is drawn back to his own arousal. He inhales shakily, slowly opening his eyes to see Frau in front of him, bent over with her eyes downcast, focused on her ministrations.

She continues lightly slapping Paul’s balls with the leather strap of the crop, sending the smallest sparks of pleasure coursing throughout his body, ultimately settling in his groin. It’s not enough to actually give him any kind of satisfaction – it only serves to heighten his desperation, giving him this need, this want f _or more_. It’s pure sexual torture with the only intention to stoke his desire.

His cock is incredibly hard, dripping long lines of pre-cum. Paul feels like he can’t take it anymore. The borderline subtle touch is too much for his heated state. He starts to wiggle around, attempting to close his legs, uttering small noises, trying to convey his craving for release.

Two hard hits to each of his knees has Paul yelping, but relenting and widely spreading his legs again. His clenched fists rest atop his thighs.

Throughout the continuous, teasing strikes to his balls, he manages to stay silent – for the most part. At one point though, a whine escapes his throat. This is unbearable; he wants to touch his cock so desperately, he needs the relief so incredibly badly. His mind is reduced purely to this single thought.

He knows he’ll be severely punished for producing even a sound, or attempting to escape this torture, but despite that, he keeps whining and squirming, until Frau ceases her agonizing hits to his balls.

Her eyes dart up to shoot Paul a dark glance, which he withstands, out of pure desperation. He watches her lips curl into a displeased frown, before she raises the crop and strikes it over his throbbing dick, _hard_.

It has Paul convulsing in pain, crying out a ragged moan. It genuinely hurt, but he welcomes it nevertheless. After what felt like countless gentle strokes, the severity of that hit is far better, far more stimulating and arousing. Somehow, he yearns for more. He wants that pain, whether he realizes it or not.

Frau doesn’t do it again.

Instead, she straightens herself, fixing her clothes. With an upturned nose, Frau peers down at Paul. He’s kneeling submissively on the ground, quivering and shaking from only unbearable sexual desire.

Frau starts circling him in long, menacing steps, her heels noisily tapping against the floor. Extending her arm, she lets the riding crop run along Paul’s shoulder, calmly saying, “You may speak again.”

Paul is completely overwhelmed with his arousal. It takes him a second to regather his voice and put it to use. He manages to stutter up some words despite the difficulty.

“P-Please… Frau Schneider, I– I need to touch myself… Please, m-may I touch myself?” The question comes out in a raspy whisper, full of hope and despair.

“No.” Frau’s voice is cold and authoritative. She rounds him one more time, before stopping right behind his back. No way for Paul to see her without changing his position.

Paul pouts slightly, but knows better than to show his disappointment too much. Instead, he silently enjoys it when Frau crouches down behind him, one of her elegant hands running down his chest and over his stomach, in an almost loving touch. Her body is so close to his own, he can feel her heat and smell her scent. His heart is racing, his stomach flipping with anticipation and hot arousal. He can’t repress his quivering. Her breath tickles his neck and Paul just relishes in this moment of affection.

Frau puts down the riding crop and lets her long, delicate fingers stroke across Paul’s skin; over his arms and legs, up his chest, and along his freckled shoulders. Paul breathes in deeply, his eyes fluttering shut, appreciating the tenderness Frau doesn’t show too often.

“Are you my good boy, Paul?” Purring into his ear, her voice is quite the opposite from before; it sounds thick and sweet like warm honey, almost luring. Paul immediately finds himself addicted to it, drawn to it, blindly so.

Nodding his head, he responds with a simple, breathed, “Yes.”

Paul almost hears Frau’s lip curling into a smile, as she lowly whispers into his ear, “Then show me, and come for me.”

Her hand descends to grip his shaft, starting to jerk him off in a mercilessly fast rhythm. An eruption of sensation. A moan rips free from Paul’s throat. It feels like all tension falls from him with this one touch, but builds up all the same. The knot unravelling, and tangling up again.

 

With a hoarse, suppressed cry, Paul comes all over his own hand, sullying his sweatpants and his stomach. His balls contract from the almost violent sudden release, his dick shooting hot ropes of cum. He buries the fingers of his free hand in the sheets, his whole body coming to a halt. Panting, he languidly eases out the remainder, dripping into his pubic hair.

Gradually, Paul realizes what just happened. A burning shame rises in him. He lifts a hand – his clean one – to rake his fingers through his hair. This fantasy went off the rails, quite a bit. Paul huffs. He really has to learn how to control his own attention seeking ass.

**Author's Note:**

> [wiener-blut](http://wiener-blut.tumblr.com/)


End file.
